The detective bowed, pointed to the open desk, then took paper and pencil and wrote:
"A plan has been formed to rob your house."
Reading this, the gentleman gave a start of surprise, then looked more closely at Shadow.
"Who are you?" he asked.
"A detective," Shadow replied, in writing.
In terms as brief as possible he outlined the case, spoke of the tramp they had given food and a day's work to, and told him he would find that the fastenings of the cellar windows had been tampered with.
Having warned the gentleman, Shadow retired, refusing either pay or refreshment tendered him.
At once the owner of the house had prepared his trap and the spring guns, while Shadow went back to the city to continue the discouraging search for a criminal to whose identity he had only the faintest possible clew.
Like a very shadow he was, as he silently stole hither and thither, and glided in and out of the haunts of vice, searching for the man who had done him a great wrong and had aroused his enmity.
And then, ere night, his lips involuntarily parted, and the long silence was unconsciously broken, as he fervently exclaimed: